Though Not More Than Any Heart Asks
by Rhiannon A. Christy
Summary: Set of four short stories, Parsely, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme, looking at the J/S pairing through four themes, Merriment, Wisdom, Remeberance, and Daring.
1. Parsley

Parsley: Merriment

_Are you going to Scarborough Faire?  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.  
Remember me to one who lived there.  
She once was a true love of mine. _

_Have her make me a cambric shirt  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.  
Without no seams, nor fine needle work.  
Then she'll be a true love of mine. _

_Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane.  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
Gather it up in a basket of flowers  
Then she'll be a true love of mine _

_Have her wash it in yonder dry well  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
Where water ne'er sprung, nor drop of rain fell.  
Then she'll be a true love of mine..._

Sarah smiled as she watched the many people fill the lane. From pirates to fairies, and everything in between. She loved this time of year, it was still hot from the lingering summer but the leaves were already starting to turn the ideal shade of copper. It was the perfect weather for a faire.

A few small children dressed as princesses and knights ran past her as she made her way to the large fountain that graced the front courtyard. Smoothing out the wrinkles in her costume, Sarah sat on the edge just listening to the falling of the water and the windy sound of the pan-pipe.

She did this every year, sat on that very spot and simply listened. The first time she had done it was when she was ten. It had been her first time to the faire and she was overwhelmed by the amount of people, both actors and patrons that roamed the lanes. Her father had already gone off to fine one of the pubs, he never did like the faire.

No, it was her mother who had insisted on the family going. She had pulled out the costume that she had worn in one of her first plays and altered it to fit Sarah's small body. She had delighted in running through the shire as a princess, to this day it was a favorite of all her ren-characters.

This year though she had dared to dress as one of the few characters she had once refused to ever be. She had written a list years ago, back when she was fifteen and all she had wanted to do was forget. Forget that she had ever wished her brother away, forget that she knew fairies existed. But most of all to forget _him_.

She sighed as she stood, people walking past her taking pictures believing her to be one of the many actors. Not that she minded, she thought her goblin costume to be rather well put together herself.

Her skin was smudged with dirt, her hair mussed and housing an array of bells, bones and coins. Two horns poked through her mass of curls, and various trinkets hung from her torn leather and linen dress. She even decided to carry a perfect round crystal.

The sun began to peak over the topmost edge of the front gate, sending warm beams across the fountain. Sarah knew if she didn't get moving soon the shire would heat up before she even had a chance to take cover beneath the more wooded areas.

Leaving the cobbled courtyard, she entered the shire, her sandal covered feet moving carefully over dirt and woodchips. Children laughed and danced with the fairies, who dusted them with shimmering dust. Couples walked hand in hand, being stopped every now and then by the street characters to be teased.

One of the more comical characters, a young man dressed in torn breeches and a tunic, skin and hair covered in dirt and mud, ran after the pretty young girls trying to kiss them. Sarah laughed as one such girl dressed in green velvet tried to lifted her heavy costume so she could escape the man. Giggles and clapping sounded through the shops as she failed and was left with a huge muddy lip print across her cheek, the dirt covered man wriggling his eyebrows at her as he left to find another victim.

The privy cleaner ran past Sarah carrying his shovel and a sign around his neck advertising; _"Dung for Sale!"_. All in all, the shire simply exuded merriment.

Most of the day was spent browsing through stores, buying trinkets and jewelry, and watching the various shows throughout the stages in the shire. As the day was nearing the end Sarah wondered to the edge of the Enchanted Forest.

The archway towered high above her, sheer cloth hung in veils and wrapped around the structure inviting all the mortals to enter the fae realm. She had yet to enter the forest for years now, it was silly she knew. It was only another stage filled with humans dressed as fairies, but she could hardly keep herself from feeling weary about the place.

Finally gathering the courage she walked past the gateway and walked amongst the trampled lanes, peeking into the fairy houses and listening to _Merryweather_ the nymph play her pan-pipe. It was strange how much the little forest reminded her of the Labyrinth.

Walking along the edge, allowing her mind to wonder to times gone by, she halted right before she entered a lone pathway leaning away from the rest of the shire. A gentle hand rested against her arm.

Looking down she noticed a sprite of a child, no more than seven Sarah figured. She was dressed as an elf. Her ears were pointed and looked as if dipped in sparkles. She wore a dress of the thinnest cream silk, and her skin shimmered almost gold. But it was her eyes that captured her attention.

They were the deepest green, and if you looked closely Sarah could have sworn gold stars were swimming in them.

"Go on Goblin, do not be shy." She nodded towards the path with a grin on her little lips.

"Where does it lead?" Sarah could only see past the first three trees before the path faded into darkness.

"Past the Veil and to His Majesty, but surely you know that Goblin. Go on, The Warren awaits its Champion." The little girl pushed her a little further onto the path. Sarah looked up to find an old wooden plaque declaring in faded letters a challenge to all who wish to traverse the Warren.

She knew it was not unusual for ren-faires to have mazes. Swallowing her fear she took another step forward, it was just a faire game, nothing to be worried about. Once past the first three trees she looked back and watched with wide eyes as the little girl shimmered into thin air. Sarah looked out in front of her with a sense of dread, and there just as she knew it would be was the Labyrinth.

She turned hoping to enter back into the faire only to find herself staring out at the Barren Lands.

A laugh, cheering, and music drifted around her.

"Welcome home Sarah." She closed her eyes as a strong lithe body wrapped around her own.

"Impossible…" A whispered word was all she was able to speak before she was silenced by a pair of silken lips.

"No, Sarah, never." He softly laughed as he lead her down the hill side to the waiting party below.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Just a bit of a side project I have had in the works for awhile. I have always loved Scarborough Faire, and thought it fitted in nicely with my idea of the Underground.

Each of the chapters are actually just short stories that are totally unrelated. The only thing that will match will be that each story will have a Renaissance/Medieval theme.

There will be four short stories in all, each set to the theme of the meaning of the herb used for the title.

**Author's Notes for Parsley**: While I really haven't given a location for the faire Sarah attends here, the layout and characters are based after the KC Ren-Fest in Bonner Springs Kansas, though sadly there is no labyrinth in the Enchanted Forest. :(

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Labyrinth, and the Lyrics are Traditional.


	2. Sage

**Sage; Wisdom:**

* * *

Tell her to find me an acre of land.  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
Between the sea foam and over the sand.  
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb.  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam.  
Then she'll be a true love of mine

Have her reap it with a sickle of leather.  
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme  
Gather it up in a bunch of heather.  
Then she'll be a true love of mine....

* * *

Her footsteps echoed through the empty stone corridors, the _tap tap_ of her heels somehow making the old castle seem fuller. She was one of the few who resided at the ruins; sleeping in tents in what was left of the old courtyard.

Sarah loved her job, the hours of studying and cataloguing the half decayed tomes that littered the castle. So many stories yet to be told. The place held a type of fantasy that she had only once before encountered.

When she worked in the library during the early morning hours she could just imagine the handful of scholars already buried deep within the shelves, or the scribes as they diligently recounted a tale on their paper.

The afternoon sun that always would shine brightly just outside of the library into a small abandoned garden, seemed to open up the veil between eras and Sarah swore she could see the young maidens and their lovers as they giggled amongst the trailing roses.

She loved this place, it was the only place on earth where she could pretend that _it _actually had happened. Her colleagues each had their own stories of mysterious encounters with the Faire Folk, but she doubted that any of them were more than tall tales spun by those who wanted to believe. She had told them of the Labyrinth, well at least a version of the story. She never said that it had been her. Their tales of seeing fairies in Midsummer or goblins in the corners of the old ruins were pretty different than confessing that she herself had actually gone to the Underground. She was sure she would have been laughed at, and so she spoke of it as nothing more than a children's tale.

Turning the corner that lead back to camp she began to hear laughter. Collin had most likely brought out his stash of scotch. The weekends were always a time for relaxation, sadly in the case of most at the castle that meant getting thoroughly sloshed. This normally also meant that by Monday everyone avoided each other still embarrassed by what the idiots had done the days before.

A deep beat echoed through the halls the closer Sarah got to the courtyard. _Drums._ That was new, as far as she knew no one there could even play the spoons. Music filled the castle, an earthy mystic sound that left Sarah feeling calm.

Her eyes widened as she took in the camp, there was scotch that was for sure, but what she hadn't expected were the brightly dressed men and women dancing and singing along with her colleagues. There was something about these people, the way they looked at her as she walked through them. It was strangely familiar.

Collin was propped up against a large piece of the fallen walls, his eyes riveted at the woman in front of him. This wouldn't have been all that strange, he had always been a bit of a playboy, but as far as she knew his tastes didn't extend to old toothless women like that sitting with him.

She could see the awe in his eyes; the shock sketched out in the line of his fallen jaw. Curious as what could bother the seemingly unflappable Collin, she took a seat beside him her eyes drifting up to meet those of the old woman.

She couldn't have been younger than eighty at least, her hair a strange silver that seemed to sparkle in the light of the sunset. Her skin though folded in wrinkles was milky and free of age spots. Eyes like the stormiest skies and a smile that told of thousands of years of knowledge.

The old woman extended one bony hand in greeting to the newest addition to her audience. Cautiously Sarah grasped it and held back a gasp at the coldness to her skin. The woman just smiled in her knowing way.

"Welcome Sarah, it has been a long time. Too long I do believe." Her fingers squeezed gently before retreating to grab the bag at her side. Sarah sat there silently, unable to speak after the woman's breathy words. It wasn't all that unusual that she would know her name, one of the others most likely had mentioned it. But she spoke to her as though she knew her, like long parted friends.

"Do not look so surprised child, surely you knew this would come one day? _He_ doesn't give up what is his very easily. Now I guess it would be prudent to introduce myself, I'm Emer a Mystic of the realm." Blinking a couple of times Sarah tried to find her voice.

"_He_? What are you talking about, a Mystic?" Emer just laughed, her fingers curling around an object inside of her bag.

"A Mystic, the wisdom keepers of our world. Of course you wouldn't know anything about that, you have been gone way too long." So focused on the woman before her she didn't notice that the sky began to darken, thick clouds forming heavy with rain.

"Gone? Our world? Excuse me, but I've never even met you before, I don't know you so how could you….what?" A soft rumble sounded above them, the first cold drops of water tapping quietly against the gray stones.

"We do not need to have met to know each other. In our world the veils between time and the other worlds are much thinner. We have met before, in the past or future, it is sometimes hard to keep track. You will understand this more once home. _He_ will make sure of it." Sarah felt like her head was going to burst it hurt so bad.

"Who in the world is _he?_" Emer smirked as she pulled an object from her bag and handed it to her. If Sarah hadn't been sitting against a stone she most likely would have fallen backwards in order to get away from what now laid in her lap. A single round clear crystal.

"Jareth…" Her fingers carefully skimmed over the top of the crystal, the image of the Goblin King forming from within.

"Yes, he is waiting for you. Has been for years. You do not belong here girl, among all these dusty tomes. Where the veils are so thick they are more like stone walls. You were born for more, born for him." Sarah looked down at the image of Jareth, he was sitting on his throne, his legs thrown over one of the arms. He looked the same as he had that night. His hair was still a mess of flaxen silk, his eyes still hauntingly bright.

"No, you have got it wrong. I belong here, I'm not fae or goblin or whatever you are I am human." Emer just shook her head and grabbed the crystal so she could hold it level to the girl's eyes.

"Are you really that blind? Who is it that you dream of at night, who haunts your thoughts when you are awake? When you walk these lonely halls where is it that you pretend to be? When you are wrapped in a man's arms, who is it that you wish was loving you?

"Tell me Sarah, tell me that you are not meant for him, that you do not belong there. Tell me." A single tear fell from her eye. She had tried so many times to forget, tried to be with others, but it always came back to him. Always.

Her hand came up, curling around the crystal, her eyes staring straight into Emer's.

"I can't…" A smile pulled widely at the old woman's lips. A flash of lightning crossed the sky blinding all in the courtyard. When everyone's eyes adjusted they were left with mouths hanging wide open. The band of revelers were gone, along with them the strange old woman and Sarah.

* * *

Sarah blinked as she looked about her, her fingers still clasped around the crystal. The man before her smiled at her. His sharp teeth shinning between his glistening lips.

"Well Sarah, it is about time."

* * *

Author's Notes: Just a bit of a side project I have had in the works for awhile. I have always loved Scarborough Faire, and thought it fitted in nicely with my idea of the Underground.

Each of the chapters are actually just short stories that are totally unrelated. The only thing that will match will be that each story will have a Renaissance/Medieval theme.

There will be four short stories in all, each set to the theme of the meaning of the herb used for the title.

**Author's Notes for Sage:** Ok took me awhile, but got this one done. I know this really doesn't show wisdom all that well, guess it really depends on how you look at it. But this sort of came to me for this cause I have been listening to Blackmore's Night lately, and listened over and over to "Way to Mandalay" while writing this.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Labyrinth, and the Lyrics are Traditional.


End file.
